“I was exercising,” Clara said into the silence, and I focused back on her face which was bright red now.
“You were… exercising?” I said slowly.
“Yes,” she explained, focusing on my tie. “I run up and down the stairs to… exercise.”
“Thatis bullshit.”
“It’s really good for you, actually,” she said, not willing to back down from her lie. “You should try it sometime. And not all of us have their own bespoke gym set-up.”
“Don’t lie to me, Clara,” my voice dropped lower in warning, and she bit her lip but after a few seconds her shoulders squared and her chin lifted in a defiant expression.
“I’m sorry,” she snapped. “But it is none of your business how I choose to exercise, Lord Sterling. Now, as everything seems to be in order here, I think you c-c-can go.”
For some reason, I felt a small thrill of pride at her furious rant. She’d gained confidence over the last month. The old Clara wouldn’t havedreamedof ranting at me. Only the small stutter at the end gave away how stressed this confrontation made her.
She lost a bit of her nerve then and broke eye contact before saying in a smaller voice, “Thank you for helping me. I know you’re time-pressured. Honestly, you cango.”
She glanced out of the window, then back at me. It was a small, fleeting look, but she was definitely searching for something or someone out there, and I could feel her fear from across the room.
Clara was afraid here, in this flat. And there was no bloody way that I was going to tolerate one of Ozzie’s favourite people in the world feeling unsafe. At least I told myself that was the only reason for what I did next.
“Right, come on, you’re not staying here,” I said, grabbing her backpack, swinging it over my shoulder and striding towards the front door.
“What are you doing?” she squeaked, jogging after me. “You can’t take my backpack! I’m not going with you. I’m staying here. I’mperfectly finehere. Honestly, you are the most insufferable, high-handed, bossy...”
“Yep, I’m all those things,” I said, “but you forgot powerful, arrogant, and very used to getting my own way. And I promise you, Clara, I do always get my own way. Youarecoming home with me. Until I can sort out what the fuck has been going on, youwillbe staying with me. Are we clear?”
Due to my job, I routinely witnessed the consequences of domestic violence. Clara was lying. There had been no fall down the stairs. It was the same old story I saw in the courts all the time. Some bloke drinks too much, takes drugs,treats his girlfriend like shit, until one day something terrible happens. In fact, I’d been working in criminal law for long enough to know that the endgame was often much more final than just a trip to hospital, and I wasn’t going to let Clara put herself at risk. She’d been beaten up and hadn’t gone to the police. Either this bloke was intimidating her, or she hoped to rekindle the relationship, believing he would change – I saw that often enough in the courts as well. The coercive control these manipulative bastards wielded was insane.
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered as she followed me out into the corridor, closing the door behind her and locking it. I suppressed a smile. I’d expected her to put up way more of a fight over this, and I was pleased I wasn’t going to have to waste my time thinking of ways to force her to come to my house. Physically forcing her wasn’t a possibility. She was too easily scared for that.
I felt a flash of anger towards whichever monster had hurt her. Was that who she saw out of the window of my car? Did she see her boyfriend? Was he staking out this flat? I was suddenly completely furious.
“Don’t make Ozzie worry about you,” I snapped. “Don’t be careless with your life. I’m offering you safety. I’m offering you somewhere to stay whilst you sort this out. Women’s refuges are few and far between. You’ll be better off at mine.”
She frowned up at me. “A women’s refuge? What are you talking about?”
“A women’s refuge for victims of domestic violence, Clara. You’re not fooling anyone with the fall down the stairs story, okay?”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand anything.”
“I understand that the man who did this to you won’t stop.”
She let out a long breath. “A women’s refuge would never have been an option,” she said quietly. I had no idea what she meant by that, but when she looked back up at me, her expression was so beaten down, so weary, so exhausted that I felt my chest tighten. “Right,” she said. “You’re right. I... I’ll come with you.”
“Good choice,” I said, taking her by her elbow and steering her towards the stairs.
She let out a small, slightly hysterical laugh. “Are you pretending that I had a choice in this?” she asked. I could barely make out her next words, they were whispered so quietly. “I never have any choices.”
Chapter 14
Were you guys wrestling?
Clara
I wasa week into my stay at the Sterling house when it happened.
I’d moved into one of the enormous spare bedrooms, my belongings looking completely incongruous in the large, expensively decorated space. At first, I was desperately uncomfortable. I felt like a stray cat that had been taken in from the street and was having to be house-trained.
